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Jul 08, 2006 21:36

Its summer, but it feels like a pensive fall this week.

Raining, perfect temperature outside and i perch my right leg on the open passenger window and read foucault for 3 hours in a park while at work.

Now home, i listen to arab strap.

For all the death of my patients, the 2 year old who drowned last week, i am content at work. There is real terror in being handed a childs corpse and given that look of " okay big city medic, fix this!"
And i couldnt, but thats okay. Im sure of it.

For all the frustration with laziness and dirty households, i wash dishes with a secret smile.

There are things out of my control. Its the ones in my control that facinate me. I think of loving friendship, of what 'alone' means. I am my own worst enemy, and the revolution begins inside.

Im a fucking bastard, and insecure, and pensive and egotistically opionionated.

NAMING BEASTS, makes them weaker.

I am not important, and i will not save the earth, i will not make people understand anything important,

but my love will be strong, and my silence will grow.
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